The Aristocrats
by I Am The Prince of Wales
Summary: In the not-too-distant future, the Company has fallen, now Peter, Elle, Mohinder, and Claire set down a brutal new order to police rogue Powers.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The Aristocrats

**Rating:** Call it a hard T.

**Disclaimer: **The entirety of this story is set in the not-too-distant future of the "Heroes" Universe... therefore, when it varies from established or future continuity, just assume that time has been changed again Hiro or Peter or... oh, let's say... Matt.

Special prizes for anyone who gets what the title is a reference to.

**Prologue**

When the overly-chipper knocking on the door finally came, Peter Petrelli had been legally dead for six months this time. Still, he was only surprised that it took them this long.

He turned to face the door, but made no effort, telekinetic or otherwise to answer it. There was no use pretending he wasn't there, but he didn't have to make things easy for them, either.

"You know, the last guy to live here as a nuclear bomb, so... you really need to think about the message you're sending."

"If you're here to fight, I'm going to remind you that my brain enables me to calculate one hundred and thirty eight different responses for every action you take, including taking a step and breathing... so I've already won this fight a billion times over in my head," Peter called over despondently.

"I'm not here to fight," Elle replied coyly as she slid into the minimal light.

"Well, I can't imagine why else anyone would come here," Peter muttered.

Elle very slowly closed the distance between them. "You can't?" she asked, her tone clumsily seductive as usual.

Peter turned his face downward. "You want me to tell you again about the time I overheard my mother say that my DNA was the most valuable substance on Earth."

Elle shrugged. "You really have to accept that when you're the single most powerful man on the planet," she pointed out.

"Well, I ripped the head off the second most powerful man, used your Dad's power to turn it in solid lead, then buried it in the desert in case he could heal _that_... so, you see where power gets you."

Elle wrapped her arms around his neck lightly. "Well, I can safely say I'm not looking to have kids. Ick."

Peter still wasn't in the mood. "What's this really about, Elle?"

Elle gave an exasperated sigh and disengaged from him. God, she hated it when she had to get to the point. "With the Company gone, there's a power-vacuum. No one's dealing with the rogue powers out on the street."

Peter set his jaw hard. "I'm not going to work for the Company."

"I'm not asking you to work for it," she clarified. "I'm asking you to _run_ it."

This struck Peter as a good time to look at her like she was crazy. "_What_?"

"You, me, and whoever else you still think we can trust," she explained. "We're not going public, we're not trying to change the world. We're just policing our own."

Peter look at her in frank disbelief. "Elle, every time I try to do something with these powers, someone I love gets hurt. Nathan, Simone, Caitlin... I got Claire _raped_, do you understand that?"

"Well, she wasn't technically raped and it was technically you," Elle said, trying to be comforting, but failing by virtue of being Elle.

"Just get the hell out," Peter growled.

Feeling that the conversation was over, Peter turned away from her.

"God," Elle shook her head. "How much sympathy can you really have for someone with superpowers?"

Peter kept his silence.

"Okay, fine," Elle mocked, "you want to play the martyr, I won't bother pointing out how many people you saved along the way."

She took a moment to get right into his face. "But I _will _point out there are a thousand other people out there looking to do as much damage as you have... _more_ if any of Mohinder's stupid formula survived... and if you're looking to balance out some of the damage you did when completely destroyed the only organization keeping them in line, you'd better come with me now."

Still Peter remained motionless.

Elle rolled her eyes. "_If_, on the other hand, you just want to punish yourself over and over again for a bunch honest mistakes, then bringing these people in is probably the best way to get yourself hurt or even killed out there."

Peter closed his eyes for a minute or so.

"Okay," he finally decided.

Elle watched as he grabbed his coat and handed it to him. "Boy, Mommy really did a number on you, didn't she?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Six Months Later**

"We're all here," West bellowed across the cavernous warehouse, "because we're different. _Special_."

He cast his eyes across the room to each of the dozen or so faces of his followers. Most of them looked like they hadn't eaten or slept in days, which suited his purposes perfectly.

"Everyone in this room has a gift... a _real_ gift," he emphasized. "Not like being able to write or draw or swim... we are the a whole new species; we're not human anymore, we're more than human..."

He paused meaningfully.

"And that means human laws don't apply to us," he concluded with a smile. "We're going to take what's rightfully ours... what all of _them_ owe _us. _It's not going to be easy. It's going to be a fight. But I assure that there is nothing on this planet that's going to stop us."

Which was about when he was shot out of the air by a bolt of blue lightning.

"You know, that really will never stop being funny," Elle reflected.

Their leader collapsed on the floor, the room was in disarray. Peter took advantage of the momentary distraction by ripping into the brains of West's confused followers and pulling the consciousness out of as many of them as possible.

He looked dispassionately as they fell to the floor, then turned his attention towards the four of them still standing. "None of your friends have been harmed, they're just asleep," Peter told them flatly. "I'm not interesting in fighting any of you. Just get into our van and there will be no violence on my part."

In response, one of them raised a gun and was shocked into unconsciousness, sending the gun skittering across the floor.

"_I'm_ more than willing to fight all of you," Elle explained helpfully. "So, I'd listen to the man."

West's eyes flew open. He made sure that Peter and Elle were both looking the other way, then made a slow reach for the gun.

"I don't want to hurt any of you," Peter repeated, "but you_ will _come with us. There's just no other way."

West carefully drew the gun up, pointed it directly at Elle, and squeezed down the trigger.

Time slowed down to a crawl. Peter realized what was happening and instinctively reacted, telekinetically forcing the bullet to redirect itself.

He had had the time to think it through, he might have been able to choose the bullet's path a bit more carefully. Made sure that he kept Elle safe without endangering anyone else in the process.

As it stood, the bullet passed right through West, killing him instantly.

Peter's eyes went wide. He ran to the dead kid's side. For her part, Elle was more than a little shocked, as were the few of West's followers that were still standing. Eventually one of them was able to pull themselves together enough to realize this was probably their only opportunity to make a break for it.

"Peter, the targets..." Elle began.

Peter turned back to face her blankly.

Elle slumped her head down.

After more time than anyone cared to measure, Peter reached over and closed West's eyes. There might have been a power out there somewhere that could have brought him back, but Peter hadn't figured it out yet.

He stood back up. "Let's just everyone back the base," he said with resignation.

Elle nodded silently.

--

Claire came out to the front gate to greet them and found Mohinder already there.

"Hello," Mohinder began nervously.

Claire nodded coldly.

Mohinder turned his attention back to the gate. In his head he could see himself and Claire engaging in casual small talk: her asking him how many they were bringing back this time, he replying that Elle had said seven or eight, he wasn't quite sure, and Claire making some light joke about how much she really needed more work or somesuch.

It tended not to work out that way, though.

In time since he had come to stay there, Claire had spoken almost exclusively to (or at times _through_) Peter, and (while he could certainly understand given the circumstances), he couldn't help but feel very uncomfortable around Claire pretty much all of the time.

He was, therefore, more than a little surprised when she started talking to him.

"Did you ever think it would come to this?"

Mohinder cocked his head. "Sorry?"

"Peter was the purest person I've ever met," Claire said distantly. "Even when he screwed up, he was only trying to do the right thing."

Mohinder nodded darkly. He knew Peter had changed since they'd first met, but had they all? Certainly Mohinder never would have imagined that he himself would become the kind of man that would habitually keep a firearm hidden in his laboratory. "Well, he has his reasons for what he's doing now."

Claire looked him dead in the eyes for the first time and he froze. "Everyone always has their reasons," she said with chilling bitterness.

Mohinder found himself unable to formulate a response. It didn't matter, however, she was gone in another few seconds anyway.

"That went well," Elle sighed.

Mohinder rushed to the gate to meet her. "Do you need any help?"

Elle, however, followed what was quickly becoming tradition and looked right through him. "Have you seen Peter?"

"Peter?" Mohinder asked with frank confusion. "I thought he was with you."

Elle took a breath. "He teleported all the prisoners to the infirmary. I haven't seen him since."

"I wasn't aware," Mohinder admitted, still feeling like he was missing a few pages of script.

"Which really begs to question why we needed the big van to transport prisoners," it was then Mohinder realized how pissed off Elle was.

"I should be in the infirmary checking them out," Mohinder decided.

"Yes, probably," Elle granted, her sarcasm rich and palpable.

For a moment she merely looked at him furiously, yet expectantly.

"I haven't seen Peter," Mohinder finally answered.

"Thank you," Elle replied.

And they both went off in opposite directions.

--

Elle finally found Peter, predictable as ever, sitting on the bed in the very same cell where he had given her very first kiss (well, her first kiss worth mentioning) what seemed like forever ago.

"You know, we do have much nicer rooms than this," Elle teased.

Peter gave an ineffectual grunt. Seemed like the thing to do.

She sat down next to him. "Really, we could even set you up with some kind of house."

"Ya gotta punch your weight," Peter mumbled.

Elle nodded.

There followed a silence.

"I killed someone today, Elle," Peter said darkly.

Elle nodded. Peter had never met West, had never seen a picture of West, and Elle really didn't feel like his life would be any richer for knowing the details. "Yeah."

"Probably I'll have to do it again," Peter said, still grappling with it himself.

"Probably," she agreed.

And, again, the silence prevailed.

"Hey," Elle said softly.

Peter turned to look her in the eye. For a moment, there was something there; something real and vulnerable. She slowly moved her hand across the close-cropped hair on the back of his head, gently caressed him... and then it him with a nice big spark.

"Ow!" Peter shouted.

"Did you feel that?" Elle asked perkily.

"Yes!" Peter screamed.

"Then I guess you're still alive," Elle grinned.

"Guess so," he grunted.

There was another silence, though this one passed more comfortably.

"Hey," he managed finally.

She turned to look up at him expectantly.

"Reverse cowgirl?" he asked warmly.

"Yay!" Elle bounced on the bed and threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

--

"West's dead," Molly Walker dutifully reported.

"He was never very reliable," Ando shook his head. "It was only a matter of time before something like this happened to him."

"We can't afford to pick our friends," Hiro argued. "And we need every ally we can find in this."

"Petrelli was the gunman," the crisp, digitized voice of the Fourth Man crackled over the speakerphone. "That's the important thing."

Ando lowered his head. "Peter Petrelli is a good man," he said simply. "If he killed West, I'm sure he had a reason."

"Everyone has a reason for what they're doing," the Fourth Man dismissed. "That doesn't make it right."

"Agreed," Hiro agreed. "When next we meet, we Peter Petrelli, we will be enemies."

"More than that," the Fourth Man replied, "we're going to have to take him down."

Hiro nodded sadly. "Agreed."


	3. Chapter 3

The lights were really flickering down in the basement.

She had taken to hiding down there lately because was the only place in the building Claire couldn't hear them together, even with her subconscious amplifying the sound a thousand-fold. Down here, at least, there was silence.

Of course, she had to watch the lights flickering, which was almost worse in its way.

Still, she sat there on the floor, watching the lights turn on and off, on and off, on and off... the gaps between light and darkness decreasing slowly and then ratcheting back up to strobe.

And that's when she knew the worst was coming.

Without fail, it would hit. The shattering of fluorescent bulbs, the violent sparking of light sockets, the moment of pure gutwrench as machine in the building lost power... followed almost immediately by the horribly reassuring hum of the generator roaring back to life.

It was like that every time.

And every time, Claire just wished she could die.

--

"Well," Peter gasped as his healing abilities worked double time, "that was different."

"I've got change it up somehow," Elle teased, "it's the only time I ever see you genuinely invested in anything."

He almost seemed to lighten for a moment.

Then, out of nowhere, he asked "what are we going to do with them, Elle?"

Elle flashed him a confused look.

"The prisoners," he explained. "Are we going to keep them all here forever or do we have a long-term plan? So kind of rehabilitation or something."

"Wow, this is new," Elle said, taken aback. "You're actually thinking about the future."

Peter shook his head. "I've been to the Future, Elle. I've been to five of them. It's not something I let myself think about."

Elle looked at him softly for a moment. "You really do think you're the worst person in the world, don't you?"

Peter said nothing.

"Do you want to run away again?" she asked simply. "We could find somewhere no one would ever find us. Like the Dawn of Time or something."

Peter actually seemed to consider it for a second. "I'd only end up stepping on a butterfly or something," he decided.

Elle wrapped herself around him from behind. "Do you need another jolt?"

"Maybe," Peter quipped. Then he turned back to her and smirked. "You know, everyone would have been much better off if I just stayed in here with you from the start."

"Definitely," Elle agreed. "But you always have to make things complicated."

Peter nodded.

Elle smiled a little more slyly. "We can pretend for a while, though."

--

Eventually, Peter found his way down to the infirmary.

"Well?" he asked brusquely, gesturing towards the prisoners on the other side of the glass.

"Obviously I'm not a medical doctor, but they seem well enough to me," Mohinder replied.

"Except?" Peter prompted.

"Except they all have Strain 138," Mohinder stated dryly. "Every single one of them."

Peter's eyes went wide.

Mohinder waved him off. "It doesn't appear to be active or contagious. It's as though they all been inoculated. Actually, it's almost like..."

Mohinder stop suddenly and Peter gestured for him to continue.

"You're familiar, I believe, with FIV... the feline equivalent of AIDS," Mohinder began.

Peter nodded. "I've heard of it."

Mohinder nodded. "A while ago, scientists discovered that nearly all modern tigers have the virus, but didn't seem to be adversely affected as a whole. They theorized that there must have been an pandemic thousands of years ago and the surviving tigers were the ones genetically suited to survive the virus."

"But that took generations," Peter pointed out.

Mohinder smiled. "Well, I certainly seen a few quantum leaps in evolution these last few years. Perhaps this is another one."

Peter said nothing, but kept his eyes across the glass on the prisoners on the other side. "I'm making ripples again."

"I'm sorry?" Mohinder asked, feeling he was missing a few tracks.

Peter waved him off. "It's nothing," he insisted. "You're sure they're not contagious?"

Mohinder shrugged. "I can test our blood if you like, but if they're carrying anything harmful I'm not seeing it."

Peter nodded, distracted. "It's probably better to be sure."

--

"We have more experience saving the world than anyone else_ in_ the world," Ando complained, "why are we stuck 'patrolling the perimeter?'"

"Because we will be better prepared for anything that comes our way," Hiro replied evenly. "Because we have to defend Molly from being used again. When the assault comes..."

"'When the assault comes,'" Ando parroted. "There's nothing in the area to attract anyone to this house except the fact that you and me keep circling it. This is ridiculous."

"Peter Petrelli attacked West's cell unprovoked and without warning," Hiro reminded him.

"The Fourth Man says it was unprovoked," Ando remarked. "But the Fourth Man will not even tell us who he is... he could be Sylar for all we know."

"Sylar is dead," Hiro muttered certainly.

"Yes, Sylar is dead," Ando agreed, "because we fought alongside Peter Petrelli."

Hiro said nothing.

"Why do trust the Fourth Man?" Ando demanded. "What do you know about him?"

And then a shadow passed over Ando's face.

"Or what does he know about you?"

Hiro just kept scanning his surroundings. "I think we're safe for the night," he finally decided.

Ando glared for a few minutes, but followed after him.

--

"They're going to figure it out, you know," Molly cautioned. "Hiro and Ando aren't stupid and I don't think they'll understand what you're doing."

After a moment she added. "They're good men."

"They won't be able to act until it's too late," the Fourth Man assured her, unfazed. "And, anyway, I'm sure Hiro won't try to stop it. They all feel response for what happened to you."

Molly nodded sadly. "It's happening?"

She could hear the Fourth Man nodding on the other end. "The Trojan Horse is in place. It's only a matter of time."


	4. Chapter 4

_Reviews are the only way I have to accurately gauge reader response, so if you want me to keep writing this one, please say so._

**Then **

"'This an imaginary story (which may never happen, but then again may) about a perfect man who came from the sky and did only good. It tells of his twilight, when the great battles were over and the great miracles long since performed; of how his enemies conspired against him and of that final war in the snowblind wastes beneath the Northern Lights; of the women he loved and of the choice he made between them; of how he broke his most sacred oath, and finally all the things he had were taken from him save one.'" Hiro mumbled sadly as they crept through the darkness.

Peter chuckled in recognition. "You read a lot of Superman comics growing up, huh?"

Hiro nodded. "When I was younger and my father would take me to America on business, I would pick up stacks of them whenever I could..."

Peter returned the nod. "Sounds familiar."

"I always wanted something like that to be said for me when I am gone," Hiro admitted, a little embarrassed but more afraid than anything else.

Peter understood exactly what Hiro was saying. "After tonight, maybe they will."

Hiro looked down at the blade he was still instinctively gripping. "Peter Petrelli, I have not done only good."

"It's not easy," Peter admitted darkly.

There was a pregnant pause.

"If I should not return," Hiro said seriously. "Promise me that you will take care of the world for me."

"Of course," Peter agreed. "You promise to take care of Claire and Simon and Monty?"

Hiro nodded. "Of course."

"Then I guess we're even," Peter smiled.

**Now**

The facility was big that Claire never had a hard time keeping from being found if she didn't want to talk to anyone. Therefore, whenever Peter found her sitting in one of the more open areas of the building, he always took it as a sign that she wanted to talk to him, even if she might not admit it herself.

"Hey," he called out.

She held up a hand listlessly. "How was the mission?"

"It went okay." It would be a while before Peter could feel like he could admit the truth to her.

"Mm."

"I, uh, I think I picked up a new power there," Peter added awkwardly. "I'm seeing colors that I never knew existed before."

"Are you sure you weren't just exposed to something?" Claire replied brokenly. "Like drugs or something?"

Peter shook his head. "No, that's not it. I'm seeing things as they always were, we just never let ourselves see them."

Claire tried not to seem interested. "Like what?"

He sidled up next to her. "Like, I used to think you and I didn't have that big a family resemblance... but we're the same color."

Claire looked at him like he had two heads. "Well, you're a little paler than me, but..."

"No," Peter shook his head. "It's not something anyone else can see, but... there's we have the same tone in our skin that nobody else has... this weird color there's no name for."

And, for the first time in a long time, Claire actually smiled. "What else can you see now?"

"I don't know," Peter admitted. "Waves."

Claire raised an eyebrow. "Waves?"

"They might be sound waves or something," Peter conjectured. "But they cut through the air. Little distortions."

"I'm really starting to think you're high," Claire teased. "What else?"

"Elle glows," Peter said, not thinking. "All the time. I can see all the electricity running through her veins and..."

Peter turned to face his niece and saw that her ghost of a smile had vanished as though it had been removed from continuity.

"I don't know..." he muttered.

"Doesn't this whole situation seem a little weird to you?" she asked after a moment.

Peter thought about it. "Not really."

Claire seemed looked at him, unconvinced.

"But, I probably don't share a father with any of my three brothers, so..." Peter quipped without humor.

Claire raised an eyebrow. "'Three?'"

Peter shrugged. "Jury's still out on Hiro."

"Grandma sure was busy," Claire said with mock admiration.

Peter nodded. "I guess it explains a lot about my Dad, huh?"

There was a silence.

"I'm sorry," he said finally.

"I know you are," she replied flatly.

--

Elle caught sight of them from the other side of the hallway and paused for a second.

Looking at a family as closely-knit as the Petrellis had always been like staring out at the world from the inside of a fish-tank; there was always a part of her that would deeply envy it, but she honestly couldn't comprehend living that way.

Any more than she could comprehend how Angela and Arthur Petrelli managed to find time to instill such a claustrophobic reliance on family in their sons while still outdoing her own Daddy in terms being manipulative and distant.

"Some people are just better at playing the game, I guess," she mused aloud.

She turned her away and continued walking towards the lab, trying to blot the lingering thoughts of what they had done to West from popping into her mind.

"Hey!" she shouted as she arrived at Mohinder's door.

Mohinder looked up from his research like been caught with his hands down his trousers.

"Are you okay?" Elle asked, a little confused.

"I'm fine," Mohinder replied, trying not to seem flustered. "How are you?"

Elle shrugged coyly, she had cooled towards Suresh since she began her relationship with Peter, but flirting was almost a reflex for her. "I guess that's what I'm here to find out."

Mohinder nodded. "I ran every test I could think of... you know, people really expect quite a lot of me."

"World's smallest violin," Elle replied chipperly.

"Well, in any case," Mohinder continued, "I'm not finding any active viral activity in any of you."

"Then why do you look like you're about to drown in your own sweat?" Elle asked.

"I have found an anomaly in one of your samples," Mohinder admitted.

"God, I'm not pregnant am I?" Elle joked.

"It wasn't _your _sample, actually," Mohinder replied nervously. "It was Claire's."

Elle raised an eyebrow. "So, Claire's pregnant?"

Mohinder shook his head in annoyance. "No one is pregnant... and how would that happen exactly?"

Elle shrugged. "All alone in a building full of detainees... a girl gets bored."

Mohinder chose to ignore this comment. "I've been running a battery of tests on Claire's blood, but I've yet to determine the exact nature of what's happening," he explained. "It could simply be an extension of her ability or even a further mutation of it... but it's definitely a recent change."

Somewhere around the phrase "further mutation," Elle froze over. "This isn't going to be like _before_, is it?"

Mohinder took a breath. "Too soon to say, I'm afraid."

Elle looked at him coldly. "And Claire is the only one currently showing symptoms?"

"If you're worried about this spreading to you, Elle..." Mohinder began.

Elle cut him off. "You're _not_ going to tell Peter about this and you're going to keep testing him and Claire until you figure out what's going on and how to fix it."

Mohinder nodded, still trying to find his footing. "Of course."

Elle gave him one last furious look to fully illustrate how serious she was, then left him to his research.

When he saw certain she was gone, Mohinder turned his attention back to the blood sample he had been analyzing. "You know," he whispered to it, "it probably would have been easier if you would have stayed dead."


	5. Chapter 5

"I still remember the first time I met the Fourth Man," Molly reminisced.

"Molly..." the voice on the other line called.

"It wasn't really that long after I met you," she explained. "My parents had been died a few months ago and I guess I was looking for a big sister or something..."

"Molly," Mohinder broke in. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you then. If you come here now, I..."

"She seemed so _cool_," she continued, ignoring him. "I mean, she was older than me and she seemed to have everything so together and she was pretty."

She paused for a second.

"You know, the kind of pretty that guys really stop and _look _at," she explained.

"What is this about, Molly?" Mohinder asked softly. "What are trying to tell me?"

"'The Fourth Man...'" she snickered mirthlessly. "I try not to laugh every time she calls herself that."

"Molly, please," he pleaded.

"I know you had your reasons for leaving me," Molly glanced downward, knowing that he couldn't see her. "And you were probably right, with the way you turned out."

"No," Mohinder admitted sadly. "I made a mistake."

She heard him take a breath.

"And I'm sorry, Molly," he continued. "But I can make things right..."

Again, Molly ignored him. "I guess I just think you deserve to know what's coming."

There was a pregnant pause.

"Thank you," Mohinder replied warmly. "Now, who is this 'Fourth Man?'" Mohinder asked.

"You son of a bitch!"

"Elle?" she heard Mohinder say.

And then the connection was lost.

Molly looked down at the phone.

It seemed she was too late anyway.

--

**A few seconds earlier, on the other side of line...**

"Now, who is this 'Fourth Man?'" Mohinder asked.

Elle burst into the room in a fury. "You son of a bitch!"

"Elle?" Mohinder shot out of his chair, dropping the phone in the process. "I was just..." He reached for the phone, which she promptly fried out of service.

"I was halfway back to my room when I started thinking about our little _conversation_," Elle fumed.

Mohinder instinctively took a step out of his chair, instantly losing his footing. "I don't know..."

"Remember?" Elle continued in a rage. "We were talking about what was going on with _Claire_. And what happened _last_ time, what happened with _Maya.._." She stared up into his eyes furiously. "And then I started to think about whose _fault _that was."

"It wasn't..."

"And suddenly all of this seemed pretty familiar," Elle cut him off. "You're trying to 'jumpstart' Claire. Maybe all of us."

Mohinder shook his head. "What happened was an accident... why would I try do to it again?"

Elle let a few a sparks flick off her hand. "I have no idea, but I'm not going to let that stop me from electrocuting you."

"Listen," Mohinder pleaded, "Elle. This isn't me. I haven't told you everything, I admit that, but..." He turned his head away from her shamefully, bringing his face to his computer screen in the process.

And then he noticed it.

"Grid D has been deactivated," he reported, still trying to process the information.

"That's impossible," Elle replied bitterly. "You're trying to distract me."

Mohinder gestured towards the screen. "Look for yourself."

Elle reluctantly did as instructed. All five cells in Grid D of Level Five were _indeed_ unlocked, which meant that three independent security systems (all of which had their own backup power systems in case she accidentally brought the power down again) had either failed simultaneously or someone had gone into the system and shut them all down on purpose.

And since they were not currently being deafened by alarms and klaxons, it could have only been the former.

"How do I know this wasn't you?" Elle accused.

"I was _here_," Mohinder shrugged. "Where were _you_?"

Before she could answer, Peter rushed in. "I heard shouting," he explained. "Is everyone cool?"

"We've got a situation," Elle said tersely, pointing to the screen.

Peter's eyes darkened over. Five potential escapees, an almost certainty of more if they didn't act fast, _and_ it could have only been an inside job. "_That's_ a situation," he agreed. "Any idea how this happened?"

Elle shrugged. "Mohinder claims he was here the whole time. I was upstairs."

Peter nodded. "I was in my room."

"Where's Claire?" Mohinder asked innocently.

Peter shot him an angry glare. "What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing," Mohinder replied. "I..."

Elle held up her hands. "What's important now is that we contain the situation." She slid her hand down the desk and pulled the gun from the secret compartment between the first and second drawers. "Now, I'm going to go up Security to seal of that Section."

Peter nodded. "I'll take care of the problem downstairs."

He wiggled his face for a second before teleporting away.

Elle turned back to Mohinder. "Follow him."

Mohinder nodded. "Can I have my gun?"

Elle shook her head bitterly. "I took this for _his _protection. You're on your own. Now let's go."

Mohinder could say nothing, but followed after her as closely as possible as she bolted from the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Peter popped back in existence just outside the heavy blastdoor that separated Grid D from the rest of Level 5.

The door itself hadn't been deactivated yet and it was holding thus far, but combined strength of the five men on the other side would make short work of it once they got in their head to work together.

Peter took a deep breath and slumped his shoulders.

Not that long ago, he had joined up with Elle on the promise that somewhere along the line he'd probably find a way to die. The five men waiting for him on the other side were some of the best equipped beings on the planet to help him see that promise. If he just kept standing there for a few minutes, they'd burst through and roll right over him.

But if he didn't stop them here, they'd keep going, right to Elle and Claire.

He'd lost so many people he cared about trying to save the world; now it was time for him to stop thinking globally and start taking care of his own.

Summoning his ability to phase through solid matter, Peter took a step forward.

--

When Elle made it to Security, the room was empty and the door was locked.

This, of course, meant nothing.

Anyone could have been there doubled back. If pressed, Elle couldn't even prove it hadn't been her.

Elle sat down at the controls, setting Mohinder's gun down next to her.

They each used an individual password to log into the system and the lock was only keyed to accept the thumb-prints from the four of them, therefore, the last person to log in their password would have been the one to shut down the system.

She quickly typed in a few commands into the log and found her answer.

"Peter?" she said in disbelief.

"I should have known it was you," she heard a voice say.

Elle whirled around to face a very angry Claire staring at her from behind Mohinder's gun.

"Claire..."

"I should have known you'd be behind all this," Claire muttered, bringing the gun to Elle's eye level.

--

Peter emerged on the other side to find himself facing ten very confused eyes that instantly turned homicidal the second they recognized him.

"Uh, hi," he muttered.

The first of them came at him, hitting him with a mental bomb-blast that sent a splitting pain through Peter's skull and blocked out his telepathic abilities.

Fortunately, it also left his attack wide open and Peter took the opportunity to headbutt the bastard, who dutifully crumpled to the ground.

"Gah!" Peter screamed. Even with Niki and Claire's abilities working in unison, that was probably the stupidest choice he could have made.

It was time to start thinking this one through.

Peter let his Vision take over and started to really look at his four remaining attackers. When he'd first brought them in, he'd still been adjusting to his new eyes and his mind was still reeling from what he had done. Now that he'd had some time with it, he was finally able to notice the strange confluence of energy just below their skin. He'd seen it earlier today, he realized, and now he finally understood what it meant.

"Who's in there with you?" he asked aloud.

One of them answered by summoning a projectile out of the ether which Peter's Vision instantly analyzed as being made of solid time.

The escapee hurled the ball of time at Peter, who used a combination of telekinesis and Hiro's abilities to reflect the ball back at his assailant, aging the attacker ten years and given Peter the opening he needed to punch the man into unconsciousness.

Another of them stepped forward and began to drain all of the oxygen out of the room, sending one of his colleagues to the ground in the process.

Peter compensated by slowing time down to prevent himself with suffocating while simultaneously speeding himself up. He landed a few quick blows to get the oxygen destroyer then took advantage of his co-conspirator's weakened state by slamming their heads together until they tapped out.

That left one of them. Peter let time speed back up to normal and stared the other man down.

"Look," Peter said, "can we not do this? I've got something else I should really be checking on now."

The prisoner grinned wickedly in response and began to raise his arms into the air, pulling the very nails and bolts from the wall with him, until legions of them were floating menacingly in the air between them.

So, Peter promptly let loose a bolt of raw electricity and shocked the man out of lucidity.

Then, completely spent, Peter collapsed to the ground next to him.

Mohinder rushed over to him. "Peter!"

"I'm sorry," Peter said between gasps for air, "but could you drag those guys back to their cells?"

Mohinder nodded. "Absolutely."

"Thanks," Peter replied as he clutched his throbbing skull. "I guess I'm still not as strong as I used to be."

Mohinder nodded. "A bit out of practice, perhaps, but you did excellent, Peter. I think we're out of the woods now."

"Not yet. I know what's doing this," he gasped. "We have to save Claire."

--

"How could I be playing both sides?" Elle demanded. "Restarting this organization was my idea!"

"It could have been a trap from the start," Claire replied coldly. "You knew what to say to manipulate Peter and you played him until you got everything you ever wanted from him."

"Maybe," Elle admitted, "but why would throw it away? I know you don't trust me, but you have to believe that I'm happier now than I've ever been in my life... why would I do anything to hurt that?"

Claire shrugged. "Maybe you think you don't deserve to be happy. Peter doesn't."

Elle's eyes darted around the room, she'd been shot before and she didn't treasure the idea of reliving the experience, especially not through the face. She had to find something to convince Claire to lower the gun, if only long enough for Elle to get out one good spark. "What about the computer?" Elle asked. "Peter was the last one to log on. How would I have been able to figure out his password?"

Claire was less than convinced. "I'd buy that if you two weren't living together and Peter was able to come up with a less obvious password than 'Zur En Arrh.'" Claire argued. "Who isn't going to going to be able to figure that out?"

"'Zur En Arrh?'" Elle wrinkled her nose in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

And then Claire's face really changed. "I guess you don't know him as well as you thought."

Elle tried not to flinch. It was really going to happen. "I can shock you before you fire."

"I'll recover," Claire taunted. "Will you?"

Elle's face tensed up.

...Then shifted into a defiant smile. "You're going to have a hard time explaining this to Peter, aren't you?"

Claire fired.


	7. Chapter 7

Elle closed her eyes and waited for the shots to come.

She heard the gun go off again and again and again; she clenched her jaw each time she heard it fire.

When she opened her eyes, however, she was pleasantly surprised to discover she still had a head.

"What..." she began to say. Then she looked at Claire and noticed the younger girl looked equally puzzled.

Not one to waste an opportunity, however, Elle kicked her off her feet and readied a ball of lightning.

--

"We have to save Claire," Peter gasped.

Mohinder nodded and helped him to his feet. "Absolutely. You go ahead and I'll catch up with you once our guests are back in their cells. It certainly wouldn't help us to have them wake up and..."

Mohinder trailed off as he noticed three bleeding holes in Peter's torso. "When did _that _happen?"

"Magic trick," Peter explained as the bullets were 'spit' back out and the holes sealed up. "It's all about misdirection."

Mohinder shook his head. "And here I thought you were slowing down."

"I am," Peter admitted darkly. "Take care of this and meet me at the Infirmary."

And then he winked out of existence.

"Absolutely," Mohinder agreed. He was really starting to hate being ordered around like that.

--

Elle held the gun out at the ready while she let the electricity dance meaningfully off the fingers of her opposite hand. "_Now_, you're going to give me some answers or we're going to conduct some experiments on conductivity."

"You don't think Peter will have a problem with you torturing his niece?" Claire taunted.

Elle shrugged. "I'm kind of banking on you not having any tell-tale marks or bruises. Now..."

At that moment, Peter popped up between them.

Claire leapt at the opportunity. "Peter," she screamed, "stop her! She's going to shot me!"

"Peter, she's lying, I..." Elle began.

Peter cut them both off with a wave of his hand. "I know exactly what's going on here." He opened his hand over the desk and deposited three used bullets. "Now, you," he turned to Claire "get the hell away from my niece."

Claire's eyes went wide. "Peter."

"_I mean it_," he growled. "No one hurts my family. Not any more. Now get out of Claire and leave us alone."

Elle looked from Peter to Claire and back. "Peter, what's going on?" She turned to look Claire in the eyes. Suddenly it was all starting to make sense. "Who are you?"

Claire's darted between them in a panic. After a few desperate seconds, she realized there was out. She smiled as her eyes went black. "You really don't know?"

Elle felt a chill run through her, as though nothing would ever be okay again.

"I guess it doesn't matter," Claire said dismissively.

Elle suddenly felt as if a giant hand made of nausea was crushing her. She crumpled to the ground, tearing her jacket off the avoid passing out from the heat of the fever she had instantly acquired. She looked to her side and saw Peter was going through the same thing.

"Claire, don't do this," Peter pleaded. "She's controlling, but I know you stop it. _Fight _her."

Claire narrowed her eyes and Elle began to feel the sickness taking root behind her face; growing and multiplying. She tried desperately not to choke on her own insides as the pain burned through her.

"_Please_, Claire," Peter begged. "You're stronger than her! You can beat this!"

Elle weakly brought her head up to survey the situation. As she could have predicted, all of Peter's lovey crap was completely failing to break the Virus' hold and bring the real Claire back to the surface... but she had an idea what would.

"I killed West!" she shouted suddenly.

Claire turned to face her, Peter merely looked confused. Maybe this was actually going to work.

"I killed him," Elle repeated. "On the last 'scouting mission.' He was the leader of the cell we busted, I had to kill him."

And suddenly Claire turned her full attack onto Elle.

"No!" Peter shouted, finally realizing what Elle was saying. "It was _me_! Claire, I did it!"

"You're _lying_!" Claire screamed. "You're lying to protect _her!"_

With his Vision in place, Peter could see the disease writhing and crawling through Elle now; without an enhanced healing factor, she wouldn't survive much longer. "No," Peter swore. "It was me. It was an accident, but... that's no excuse."

"You're lying," Claire repeated, but Peter could see the infection retreating from Elle.

Peter closed the distance between Claire and himself and wrapped his arms around his shaking niece. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't know..."

Elle sprung back up, gasping for air.

_Quick_, Peter telepathically told her,_ get out of here, lock the door_.

_But..._

_It's okay,_ he assured her,_ I know what I'm doing._

Elle nodded and did as she was told.

Claire let her regrets wash over her. All the memories of West; the sweet, innocent boy that had taught her how special she really was.

And she broke.

Peter felt his niece sobbing deeply and bitterly into his chest. He felt the twisting and clawing in his guts. And, for what felt like the millionth time in the last few years, he felt the crushing weight of his failure towards the people that mattered to him most.

Peter took a deep breath.

Then sucked all the oxygen out of the room.

--

Especially after the day's previous events, Peter felt bad about delivering Claire to the Infirmary the way he did.

Still, she was dangerous as long as she carried the infection and there were only so many ways to render an almost indestructible girl unconscious.

"Knock knock," Elle sang from the doorway.

Peter looked up. "You looked like you're going to see the Ramones later or something," he creaked.

Elle smoothed her hands down the sparkly gold lightning bolt on her bright red t-shirt. "I thought it was cute."

Peter tried to muster up a half-smile.

Elle cocked her head to the side cautiously. "Are you mad?"

Peter shook his head. "Not at you," he replied. "That kid had to be someone's boyfriend, someone's first kiss... and you only kept it secret to protect me and Claire."

Elle sat down next to him. "She's going to be okay, right?"

"Physically, anyway." Peter knew she was really asking him about himself, but the answer was the same.

Elle slowly let her fingers creep across his chest, planting tiny bolts of light wherever she went.

He brought his head back up to look at her. "Are you sure you're ready for this? I mean, after everything that happened..."

Elle smiled sadly. "Everything that happened is exactly why I need this."

Peter nodded and brought a crackling spark to the tips of his fingers. Elle smiled and joined her hand to his, flickering her energy off of his. They both gasped as a rush of euphoria danced between them.

"_Shazam_," she whispered.

--

"I've been pursuing an aggressive battery of vitamins and antibiotics," Mohinder explained. "So far, I've seen a significant improvement in all of the patients... Claire especially," he emphasized. "It seems that the Virus had quite a hard time fighting against her enhanced immune system."

"Well, that's good," Molly voice echoed on the other end.

"Yes, absolutely," he agreed. "I just have one question... why does everyone think I'm _an idiot_?" Mohinder fumed.

"Wh-what?" Molly asked shakily.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Molly's voice, small and unassuming as it had been all those years ago, crept from the other end of the line.

Mohinder, however, was undaunted. "You don't honestly believe your 'Fourth Man' was that stupid, do you? This 'plan' of hers could not have been a more obvious feint... and I'm not about to believe she's truly dead. Don't forget I created her. Now, Where is she?"

There was a pause on the other line.

"I don't know," Molly admitted softly. "A living, self-evolving virus... she could be in any human being on the planet. Maybe all of them. She didn't tell me anything about that."

Mohinder softened, but only slightly. "And what was she really planning... I've been running over all the different possibilities in my head: was she trying to destabilize us from within? is she trying to lull us into a false sense of security now?"

"I'm sorry, I don't really know," Molly replied. "Maybe this was all to get Peter or Elle out of the way." She thought for a moment before adding. "Maybe she was after you."

"Or maybe," he said after a moment, "this is exactly what she wanted to happened."

--

When Claire came to, she was strapped down to a bed in the Infirmary, the Machine That Beeps dutifully monitoring her signs. She simply lied there for a moment to feel the cold fury burn through her.

Elle had murdered her first real boyfriend.

Elle had murdered West and Peter had taken_ her _side.

She'd never really believed in what they were doing here, had certainly never believed that _Elle_ had any right to judge who was dangerous and deserved to be locked away, but she had agreed to come along for Peter...

And now West was dead.

She saw now how dangerous this kind of hysteria could be and far gone Peter really was. She knew now that she couldn't trust him anymore.

From here on, there was no one else she could rely on; she only had what she could hold inside herself.

It would just be Claire and her little friend.

Deep, deep inside.


End file.
